Life in Death
by LovelyFarron
Summary: He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and swallowed hard, unaware of just what exactly he was trying to hide himself from. The reality that his life was over? The part of him that had withered and died with her death that was now blooming once more? He didn't know.


Game: Assassin's Creed

Pairing: Edward/Mary

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: T

Life in Death

She was there waiting for him when he died.

He was struggling, lungs on fire, muscles tense and coiled, anger ripping through him like never before at the thought of his home—his _family_—being torn from him once again and then there was a flash of silver, a stabbing pain, and then—

"Mary," he breathed, scarcely able to believe his eyes. She was there, in front of him, just as he remembered her. Well, better really because the last time he'd seen her, she'd been…she'd been…

His mind abruptly decided to register what had just happened to him—he'd been impaled through the chest, right?—and had the decency to make his body convulse, throwing him gracelessly to the ground gasping for air, the squelching sound of sharpened steel meeting flesh—_his_ flesh—ringing in his ears.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was dead._

"Ah've been waitin' for yah Kenway."

He shivered involuntarily, her hand lightly touching his back as she crouched beside him. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and swallowed hard, unaware of just what exactly he was trying to hide himself from. The reality that his life was over? The part of him that had withered and died with her death that was now blooming once more? He didn't know.

"Easy, Kenway," he heard her say to him, breath tickling his ear. "Not an easy thing, is it?"

He snorted, then inhaled sharply as her hand began to move against his back in soothing circles.

How he'd missed her hands.

Her small, scarred, skilled hands.

He wanted nothing more than to take his own hands and trace over every line on hers, find every crease and dip, but he could not for fear that his guts would come spilling out. No, instead he remained hunched over, arms wrapped around his torso as he remembered how to breathe.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was dead._

"What'd yah mean…been waiting…for…me?" he questioned slowly, tongue moving like it was made of lead.

Things were starting to make sense, the aftershocks of his sudden demise gradually subsiding and he was finding that he didn't care, didn't give a damn about what had happened to him. There was no urge to cry, no howl of sorrow that wanted to rip itself from his throat. If anything, he wanted to just laugh until his lungs gave out from exhaustion because he remembered her, he remembered her dying in his arms that night and the alcoholic flavored blur that came after.

"Ah mean what Ah said," was her admonishing response to his question. "Ah've been waitin' for yah."

"Yes but…where?" he asked, moving his head as much as he could. He could just see beyond her knee, enough to know that the space around them was completely blank; they were suspended in a sea of white. "Is this the afterlife?"

"Ah wouldn't know."

Edward blinked. "You wouldn't know…? But you've been dear for…" his voice trailed off in a strangled gasp, teeth clenching, hands balling into fists. No. There was no need for such thoughts, no need for him to admit that he'd counted every day since she had passed, a splinter of grief still embedded in his heart. "…a long time."

She laughed in that way she did, and he was able to maneuver himself just in time to see her throw back her head, thin lips curling back. "Ah said Ah'd be with yah, didn't Ah, Kenway?"

"Aye."

"So Ah have."

His brow furrowed further and with a grunt and a bout of strained breathing he managed to bring himself to a sitting position on his knees, Mary's strong hands supporting him all the way. It was getting easier for him to exist, his mind gradually coming to terms with the fact that it was not bound by the painful physical realm anymore and that it was its own worst enemy. The longer he held to the illusions of the material realm, the harder it would be for him.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was dead._

"That's it…come on now…" she encouraged him as he struggled to stand on wobbly legs, her arms moving to support him. "Come on Edward; yah've braved worse on sturdier legs. Yah a pirate for God's sake."

"Privateer," he corrected with a touch of his old glibness, delighted to see that his words brought a full smile to her lips. God, how he'd missed her smile. And her hair. And her eyes.

"Yah 'aven't changed, Kenway."

"I would have hoped I'd changed at least a little." Her arms slipped from around his waist and he fought the urge to crush her to him. "I used to be an ass."

"Still are," she teased back, a light in her eyes. She looked him over now that he was standing and he subconsciously straightened his posture, bringing himself to full height, watching her as closely as she watched him. She crossed her arms over her chest and he wanted to cry because he remembered how she used to do that, back when she had had to protect her true identity from everyone. It seemed that some things did not change, not even in death.

"Well then that's a damn shame. Guess I joined the Assassins for nothing."

"Ah wouldn't say for nothing…"

He was taken by surprise once again. He blinked and gave his head a little shake, blonde strands falling in front of his blue eyes. "You know?"

"About yah joinin' the Assassins and the work yah did for them in mah absence? Of course Ah know!" She jutted her hip to the side and raised a slender eyebrow. "Ah said Ah was watchin' yah, didn't Ah?"

It felt like he'd swallowed a cannonball. "Then…all this time…"

She nodded. "Ah've been with yah, watchin' yah grow. And Ah'm proud of yah."

His throat finally closed, and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let one salty drop fall. Funny as it was, he had actually never thought of how nice it would be, how full and satisfying it would feel, to hear her say such things. He'd lived his life hoping, praying that he'd be something she could be proud of but he'd never actually thought that he'd ever hear her say those words, let alone see her again like this.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was dead._

"Mary…I…I'm so—" He choked on his words, bit back a curse, and balled his hands into fists. Goddamn it all; why was this so hard? Was it because it was her fault she was dead? If he'd just been a little bit faster, if he'd just listened to her sooner, maybe then she wouldn't have been on the ship that fatal day, maybe she would have lived a long, happy life with him, his navigator and moral compass. "I…don't—"

"Of course yah do." She firmly gripped the sides of his face, calloused hands brushing against his stubble, and stared him dead in the eye. "Ah don't regret a single thing Ah've done. If Ah could, Ah'd do it all again." Her countenance softened just the slightest, seeing the misery and torment reflected in his blue. "Even the parts where Ah 'ad to deal with yah."

It was then the words she'd spoken the first time they'd met echoed in his ear again, it was then that he remembered what it was like having her by his side and leading him along the path that was to become his destiny.

He remembered the feeling of fatherly affection he'd first held for what he had believed was a young lad and the respect and reverence with which he'd treated James Kidd once it was apparent that he was wise beyond his years.

He remembered becoming attuned to his body language, being able to read him like a book, but still being shocked when it was revealed that he was a she. He'd been rather embarrassed for himself then and he nearly broke out in loud chortles again now; he, Edward, the man gifted with what the Assassins referred to as The Sight not being able to pick up on the sway of James's hips, the times his voice ran a bit too high, and not taking notice of the way he protectively folded his arms across his chest?

The wicked playfulness in her voice and eyes upon James's reveal, the gravity of the secret she'd entrusted him with, the revelation that she thought he was someone worthy of trust pressed heavily upon him once more and he couldn't even begin to fathom what he'd done to have someone put so much faith in him.

He'd been a drunkard, a liar, a cheater, a devil. The worst of the worst in so many ways, the good deeds he did never quite enough to make up for all the evil he'd done. And yet through the mud and the blood, the stench of alcohol and cheap perfume, she'd something even he hadn't known he had. She had refused to give up on him, used her dying breath to try and get him to change his course.

He sucked in a deep breath, lips trembling, body shaking as great emotions swept through him and made him dizzy. He could feel her hands still on his face, warm and reassuring, and he covered them with his own large ones, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of her hands.

The second chance at life he'd been given, the wonder of meeting his daughter, the contentment at finding another woman who would love him, the joy of bringing a son into the world…these events had only been possible because of _her_.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was dead._

"Mary…"

His hands fell from her face, threaded through her hair, tickled the skin of her neck, and traveled down the soft fabric of her coat, until they came to rest at the red sash tied around her waist. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his chin atop her forehead, his arms wrapping themselves around her until she was pressed firmly against him.

When her arms moved to hug him, crushing them further together, he was so happy he thought he would die again.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was dead._

"Are yah ready tah go?" Mary asked him sometime later.

In truth, he was content as they were, and after pressing his lips in a quick show of affection to the top of her head, he loosened his hold just enough to look down at her. "Go? Go where?"

"The afterlife, Edward! We're dead!" she said. "Where did yah think we'd be goin'?"

"Don't rightly know," he admitted with a smile. "I was thinkin' maybe somewhere with a ship we could call our own. Some water. A couple of islands. Booty to be plundered."

She laughed and snaked her arms from around his body, her right hand finding his left and threading their fingers together. "Come on, then. One last adventure, eh?"

He nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Aye. Together."

And so, hand and hand, Mary Read and Edward Kenway walked the final leg of their journey together. Around them times changed, flashes of the mortal realm passed by their vision and showed them all they had left behind. And even though it was sad, even though Edward saw his son growing up without him and his daughter sold into prostitution, even though Haytham became the very thing Edward had sworn to destroy and his daughter the very thing he had tried to keep her from becoming, he did not lose hope. Because in the midst of those dark times he saw something else, a few shining lights. He saw a beautiful, intelligent woman that stole his son's heart. He saw a revolution. He saw a boy. He saw rebirth.

_He'd been run through._

_And he was alive._


End file.
